


Three Sheets to the Wind and Back Again

by whythinktoomuch



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, Lena Luthor Knows Kara Danvers Is Supergirl, it's very sweet and fluffy and lena's drunk; so what more could you possibly ask for, my contribution to the zine (except slightly adjusted now that i don't have a word count 🙏), post-reveal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:34:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26329468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whythinktoomuch/pseuds/whythinktoomuch
Summary: The three times that Lena is drunk enough to tolerate some casual camaraderie and pesky pleasantries, and the three times that she lets Supergirl be the one to provide them for her.
Relationships: Kara Danvers/Lena Luthor
Comments: 33
Kudos: 857





	Three Sheets to the Wind and Back Again

**Author's Note:**

> My zine fic! In the digital flesh and whatnot!

It all started with a simple fluke. 

Lena wasn’t normally one to wine and dine her investors, and on the rare occasion that she did, she always made sure to indulge in enough of the latter to counteract the former.

But there is—of course—a first time for everything. 

It wasn’t long before the precarious combination of pricey heels and even pricier drinks proved to be no match for an uneven sidewalk, and Lena soon found herself falling forward and face-first. But she barely had time to feel the call of gravity when a wall of warmth swooped in to encircle her waist, effortlessly supporting her weight.

Lena sighed. “I’m fine.” 

“You were falling,” Supergirl corrected. 

“Yes, and I would have been perfectly fine with that as well,” Lena said.

“Are you sure?” 

“Of _course,_ I’m sure, and frankly—” 

Lena pitched forward the moment Supergirl disengaged. It was only through the grace of god and super-speed—a swift hand snagging the back of her coat at the last split second—that Lena was spared a face full of cold concrete. 

Polite as ever, Supergirl didn’t dare breathe a word of ridicule. The implicit _I told you so_ was already embarrassing enough. 

“Would you like me to take you home?” she asked instead. 

“No,” Lena grumbled. “But please do.” But then, the subtle shifting of weight had her digging her heels back into the sidewalk, in a near desperate attempt to stay grounded. _“No,”_ she said sharply. “I can walk.” 

“Can you?” Supergirl asked, all cheeky. She drew back her steadying hand, even cheekier. 

Wobbling right away, Lena was forced to grab onto Supergirl’s outstretched arm. “With help, _yes,”_ she said. “Don’t be a jerk.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Supergirl muttered under her breath, before continuing in a much friendlier and audible tone, “How may I be of service then?” 

Lena blinked, but didn’t comment. She instead slipped an arm around Supergirl’s much bulkier one, leaning heavily into her solid frame. “This should be enough.” 

“What about your heels?” 

“Nothing I haven’t done before,” Lena said simply. “Just walk me back to my building, and we’ll call it a day.” 

“… Are you _really_ trying to get back to work right now?” 

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business.” 

Supergirl came to an abrupt stop, which brought Lena to an abrupt stop, which Lena’s stomach abruptly decided to be unhappy about. 

“All right, _fine,”_ Lena groaned. “Just get me to L-Corp, and I’ll take a car home from there.” 

“Promise?” 

“Yes, because I don’t break those.” 

The sharp remark was promptly followed by a pause—one long enough to give Lena time to regret her words, and then in turn, dismiss that same regret. 

“Okay, Miss Luthor,” Supergirl said, her tone ever so even and neutral. “On your lead.” 

Thankfully, the rest of the journey was completed in relative silence and with minimal stumble. By the time they reached the familiar double doors of the L-Corp tower, Lena was steady enough to break away from Supergirl’s support without consequence, walking right up to the building without another word. 

Lena called her driver, then paced around the lobby as she waited. She watched Supergirl take selfies with a few passersby, and watched how Supergirl glanced back at the building before taking off. She stopped watching when the streak of red and blue hit the night sky.

It wasn’t until much later, when Frank was driving her home that Lena realized she’d forgotten to say _thank you._

//

It was very late into the night and after three fingers of whiskey that Lena heard the subdued _thud!_ of heavy boots landing on her balcony for the first time in what seemed like forever. 

“Drinking at work seems like a bad idea,” Supergirl said in greeting. 

“It’s well after work hours,” Lena said. “Ergo, this is no longer a work space, so I think I’m fine.” 

“As if you’ve ever had a work-free space in your life,” Supergirl said, and Lena had drunk just enough that it was even somewhat funny. “You want to talk about it?” 

“You lost your right to ask me that a long time ago,” Lena said, sighing. But there was no bite to her words; she was too tired and alcohol was too great of an equalizer of moods. 

Supergirl nodded. “Fair enough. Can I sit with you then?” She gestured toward the white couch, careful to only indicate the cushion farthest from Lena’s seat. 

“We’re not friends,” Lena reminded her.

“I promise to sit only as a fellow world-saving colleague.” 

“I’ll allow it,” Lena said eventually. “I’d offer you a drink, but I assume that it does nothing for you.” 

“And you’d be right in that assumption.” Supergirl approached the couch, and after a brief moment of annoyingly affable consternation, she swept her cape to the side before dropping into her seat in a rather brilliant display of inelegance. “Anyway, I just wanted to… wait, _what?”_

Lena was snorting into her hand, and apparently not as subtle about it as she’d thought. “Sorry… I just realized that I’ve never seen you sitting down before. And honestly, that suit _can’t_ be comfortable.” 

“Coming from the woman who insists on wearing heels everyday,” Supergirl shot back. “It’s actually not that bad though. Especially since Brainy gave me pants.” 

“The pants do suit you.” 

Supergirl’s face brightened with such a familiar dazzling smile that Lena immediately regretted saying anything in the first place. “Thanks! I’ll be sure to pass on the compliment.” 

Lena just nodded and poured herself some more whiskey, letting the room fill with an increasingly heavy silence, utterly unburdened with the desire to break it while Supergirl tapped out a nervous rhythm on her own leg. 

“So, you really don’t want to talk about it?” 

Lena sighed into her drink. “Correct.” 

“All right, I’m going to beat you in chess then.” Supergirl started to reset the chessboard on the table before them. “I know I’ve never won before, but now that you’re super drunk, I think I might actually stand a fighting chance.” 

“As _if,”_ Lena scoffed. “If anything, I won’t go easy on you because, well… because.” 

Supergirl’s hands briefly faltered in their task, but she never looked up or over. “We can play until you’re ready to go home.” 

“I’m not going home tonight.” 

Supergirl snapped her head up, mouth already open with an offer that Lena would surely be forced to rebuff… but then, it never came. Instead, she just gave a simple nod. “Okay. We’ll play until you fall asleep then.” 

“Thank you,” Lena said. She reached out to touch Supergirl’s hand in gratitude. It wasn’t much more than a light brush of fingertips against the gauntlet of her super-suit, but Supergirl practically sagged at the contact.

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” she said softly.

For the first five rounds, Lena secured her checkmates with ease. The sixth round was a bit fuzzier, somewhat harder to remember. But hours later, when Lena woke up alone on her couch, warm and cozy under the weight of an unfamiliar blanket, she recognized the play on the board and definitely would have won within two more moves.

After chugging the water bottle left conveniently by the chessboard, Lena studied the blanket—knitted, warm, and so clearly not hers. She pushed her face into it, breathing deep, trying to detect some trace of Supergirl in the soft material. A lingering scent of windswept bravado and the like. 

But try as she might, all Lena could smell was Kara. 

// 

Getting to catch up with Sam was a blessing. 

A part of Lena suspected that the outing had been arranged by Jess, desperate to get her boss to do something that wasn’t moping around in resentment and silence. It’s the same part of Lena that’s grateful enough to give the assistant a substantial raise in retaliation. 

It was nice having a night out—one without any memory of past betrayal hanging over her, even if Sam believed that Lena deserved to be doing much, _much_ better after all this time. 

“But she hurt me,” Lena protested, between not so measured sips of vodka tonic. “She legitimately hurt my feelings, and _god,_ she made me admit that I have _feelings.”_

“Nobody’s denying that,” Sam said, slurring in a way that Lena surely was _not._ “You’re allowed to be hurt. And you’re allowed to have _feelings,_ for sure. But you’re also allowed to forgive her, you know.” 

Lena rolled her eyes. “I know that.”

“Do you?” 

“Yes!” 

“Do you _really?”_ Sam pressed. 

_“Yes!”_

Sam raised her hands, grinning all smug and wide. “So, what’s keeping you?” 

Frowning, Lena hastily changed the subject, though Sam’s words continued to rattle around in her head for the rest of the night, louder and louder with each pass. By the time they were leaving the bar, Lena’s inner commentary was practically _singing_ at her. So much so that when she heard the distant, yet familiar flap of heavy fabric in the air, she went ahead and canceled Sam’s cab. 

“Take my car instead,” Lena offered. “Frank can drive you to your hotel.” 

“Well, what about you?” 

“I’ll… take the next one.” 

Sam’s confusion was soon overtaken by a knowing smirk, when Supergirl finally emerged from the shadows. “Oh, I see how it is… _Hey,_ Supergirl.” 

“Hi, Sam,” Supergirl returned, smiling broadly. “How are you doing?” 

“Pretty buzzed, not gonna lie,” Sam said with a laugh. “But we can catch up later. Have fun, you two…” 

And though Lena _really_ didn’t care for the suggestion laced in her friend’s tone, she managed to bid Sam and her generously loaned car goodbye without any verbalized complaint. 

“You look drunk,” Supergirl said. The accompanying chuckle was endearing, the smile infectious. 

“I am,” Lena agreed. “Properly so, in fact.” 

“So, what’s the plan?” Supergirl asked. “Am I walking you home? Hailing you a taxi?” 

Lena nipped her tongue, a subtle reminder to hold it despite all the alcohol. But her hand still drifted with intention, gently familiarizing itself with the cool material of Supergirl’s suit. Even with that very slight point of contact, Lena could feel the emphatic rise and fall of Supergirl’s deep, steadying breath against her palm. 

“Fly me home?” 

The request had barely left Lena’s head, let alone her lips, when she was quite literally swept off her feet, cradled against Supergirl’s chest, the insignia close enough to touch if she dared. 

“My pleasure, Miss Luthor,” the hero said, and Lena somehow didn’t hate it in the least. 

// 

The flight felt entirely too short in Lena’s humble opinion, but good things so often do. Within minutes, Lena’s feet were touching down onto the balcony of her penthouse, and only then did she realize that her situation was actually far from ideal. 

“We’re locked out,” Lena blurted out, thoroughly interrupting whatever tender farewell Supergirl was about to offer her. “Or _I’m_ locked out anyway. I mean, I keep this door locked.” 

“Really? Why?” Supergirl asked, before Lena’s stare made it click. “Oh, right. Home security and safety and whatnot… Okay, hang on.” She then started to poke and prod at the sliding glass door as if it were somehow a better solution than just flying Lena down to the main entrance. 

“What are you doing?” 

“It’s okay, I got this. My sister showed me this trick once,” Supergirl said, carelessly and effectively collapsing an invisible boundary with nary a fanfare, and… everything was fine. Lena was actually fine. 

She watched Supergirl fiddle with the door, her heart at ease and even perfectly content to be so. “Hey.” 

“Hm?” 

“Do you like me?” 

With a sudden crunch, the door handle snapped off in Supergirl’s hand. “What?” she squeaked, then in an unnaturally deep voice, “Ahem, _what?”_ Then in a voice that could almost pass for normal, “So… your door’s open.” 

“You mean, you broke my door,” Lena corrected. 

“You can afford it!” But as Supergirl turned to leave, a gentle hand pressed against her upper arm was all it took to ground her.

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

Supergirl blushed from ear to ear in a way that Lena had seen Kara do many a time before everything went wrong. “Who… wouldn’t… like you? What’s not to like?” 

Lena laughed, then Supergirl laughed, then they were laughing together, and it was surprising just how easy it all felt. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, I suppose.” 

“All right, I really should get going now,” Supergirl said, inclining her head. “Good night, Miss Luthor.” 

“Lena.”

“Sorry?” Supergirl whipped her head around, eyes rounding. 

Lena shrugged, unconcerned and casual. “Well, if I’m calling you, _Kara.”_

A very long silence followed the exchange, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Not anymore. 

“Lena, it is,” Kara said softly, smiling wide before taking off into the night, and Lena stared after her, watching and watching until she was eventually out of sight. 

**Author's Note:**

> I will only accept anonymous hate and complaint on tumblr 🥰


End file.
